The trip up was unassuming at best. Arlene leading the column with Xylia. Rinea was piggybacking Naciv, and Wattyson was at the rear. He was seemingly dragging his foot like he was limping. He was always limping. He wasn’t in robe, so he couldn’t float. Arlene swore she could hear him muttering on why robe was superior.

  From Floor 39 to Floor 10, nothing. Arlene thought there would be monsters respawning, but nothing at all. The icy roof from the flood incident, and the battle scars against the lion slime were all there.

  She wanted to press further. The whole dungeon was too mysterious to pass on. Why was this dungeon mutating? Why were the wall and floor mismatched from pristine and worn marble, later with machinery like it was a workshop? More importantly… what was that thing she saw or heard when she peeked into the stitching wound?

  The questions were loud in her mind. After all, there was nothing going on in the dungeon. Nothing to give them goosebump, no winds against their tired body, the temperature was lukewarm at best. The only sounds accompanying them were their own footsteps, yet even those were barely noticeable. They were walking on hard stones.

  The answers to those questions lied ahead, deeper past Floor 39. She shook her head slightly and conceded. It was too much of a risk. There would be other adventurers capable of clearing this strange dungeon and revealed the answers. More urgently right now, she needed the three adventurers in her group to make it out alive.

  She glanced to the rest. Wattyson was… well he was fine. It seemed Xylia and Naciv were well too—there weren’t any signs of exhaustion. Their faces were more contemplating than concerned. She guessed it had to do with what Wattyson asked of them.

  Naciv looked nervous. He was after all delegated by Wattyson to lie. Still… Wattyson said he worked with Naciv before. When did that happen? She was with Wattyson, practically glued to him the entire time. The person in question barely socialized and had lived in that Red Grove for a long while. Naciv just obeyed him completely. She had thought it was because he dressed like a Sage, but the reason was likely deeper.

  There were many questions she wanted to ask him after they got back to the Inn—all were personal.

  Xylia paused. Naciv bumped into her big wizard hat—pointing into his eyes. “Oui! Hey! Don’t stop suddenly! I almost got poked!”

  Arlene glanced back, noticing Xylia looking at the pristine wall. The little mage has that look of curiosity weighing over unease. “What’s wrong? Something about that wall?”

  “N-Nothing! It’s just…” She pointed her bundle of staff up slowly and heavy with exhaustion. “I didn’t tell you guys, but… I splattered a spell here—to mark obviously… It’s gone now.”

  Arlene’s brow raised. “You’re sure it’s here?” Naciv joined in. “Yeah? How do you know? This wall looks the same and new like any others.”

  Xylia’s cheeks puffed as she pouted. “It is here! I’m not an idiot! Through my magical eyes and immense strength of photogenic memory, I deduce it to be here!”

  Arlene stepped toward her, lowering herself to be on her eye level. “Were you… hoping to achieve something with the mark?”

  The little mage nodded. “It’s just a guess. I thought if you know… the big bad is dead, the dungeon would stop spiraling like it was just born, and the mark would still be here. Now it isn’t… so that mutated Kobold wasn’t the culprit behind this dungeon’s abnormality.”

  Rinea giggled to herself. “It’s fine, Xylia. We took down the ‘big bad’. There will be other adventurers to come after us. We’ll know the answer by then.”

  Xylia’s gaze lowered—holding the bundle of wands tight. She spoke barely a whisper. “But… are we certain like there was only one mutated Kobold? What if there’s more?”

  No one answered; they weren’t sure either. Wattyson was… why was he so far away?

  Naciv took charge and answered instead. “Because the ‘Great Sage’ only said there’s one. You know how Kobolds are—they travel in packs. They are communal-type monsters after all. What we faced was only one, hence there can’t be other.”

  Xylia’s eyes widened to Naciv. “Woah! You sound smart, Errand boy!”

  “Don’t call me errand boy.” He said dejectedly and no energy to retort further.

  “No wonder why the Great Sage entrust you to report to the Guild! I agree with what you’re thinking!”

  She spun on her boot forward. “Then let’s continue, our jobs are done and we’ll leave the mystery of this dungeon to our successors!”

  It was only after she realized. “Wait—Where’s the Great Sage?!”

  Rinea lifted her tired thumb, pointing backward. There he was, limping as he walked.

  “Oh my greatness!” Xylia ran to him with speed her legs blurred into a wheel. “Are you still hurt? Would you like me—the greatest mage of all time—administer the great healing upon your greatness, thanks to my greatness truly?!”

  Wattyson could only groan. “Please speak normally. The Great Sage is very tired, thus can only understand a little of what you said?”

  “Oh?! Then I shall rephrase! Great Sage! Do you require healing?!”

  “No… also, please don’t speak so loud.”

  “As you wish! Great Sage!” Xylia skipped back to the front.

  “Alright, let us continue then.” Arlene’s voice rang out teasingly. “Don’t fall behind, ‘Great Sage’.”

  Floor 1.

  The entrance to this dungeon now the exit for the group. The vortex in the middle of the corridor flashed and struck out lightning against the ceiling like it was chained. It only struck to the ceiling.

  “There it is,” Rinea spoke out in relief. “Our way out.”

  Naciv squinted his eyes. “Is it just me or… the portal look more violent than before?”

  “It’s just you, dear errand boy.”

  “Don’t call me errand boy.”

  The group didn’t move. They were waiting for someone to step first. Rinea would’ve if she had functioning legs. Alas, her entire body was too exhausted and injured to walk properly. Xylia hummed to herself. She remembered the order they dived in and wished to respect it still.

  “Arlene of the Chosen One.” She poked her forearm, and whispered. “Are you going to kick the Sage into it again?”

  That made Arlene chuckled—more at ease than forced. “Is that any way to respect the ‘Great Sage’?”

  “No, but you’re the Chosen One! And you rammed him into the portal first. By that order, he should be the first to leave!”

  “You make a valid point.”

  Arlene’s eyes glinted and glanced to him. She didn’t speak, instead she tapped Xylia’s by the shoulder and left. Striding to him like she was skiing. It was as if her steps were as light as a feather, Wattyson didn’t see her coming.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  “Watty.” She whispered into his ear. Though as she expected he didn’t react or was surprised.

  “Yes? Arlene?”

  “Do you remember you were the first to dive into the dungeon?”

  “…Yes? What about it?

  “Well… care to do so again?”

  Wattyson blinked to her. “You want me to walk straight to that screaming vortex?”

  Her smile widened nearly reaching her ears. “Oh come on, it doesn’t make a sound. How can you call it that?”

  “It might as well be screaming. Do you see how it struck the ceiling? It’s like a dying star over there!”

  “You say it like you’ve seen a dying star.”

  “Point still stands.”

  Arlene kicked his shin lightly, just enough to brush him slightly. “Come on, this will be good for you too!”

  Wattyson narrowed his eyes at her, his arms crossed. “How so?”

  Arlene’s grin turned mischievous, calculating even. She eyed Wattyson entirety.

  “Perv.”

  Her cheeks flushed pink. “W-What?! No! I mean… You always talk about how robe is superior right?”

  “In every possible and impossible way, yes.”

  “Then go first and change! I’ll stall them for you. Use that black hole maginithingy of yours!”

  “What about the bandage?”

  “Don’t be stupid, Watty. Just wear over them.”

  “Hmmmm…” He let out a long drawn out sigh. “Fine. I’ll go into the vortex that may or may not shred me to pieces.”

  “Splendid!”

  Wattyson started striding in his usual limp state. Yet ever creeping behind him was the Chosen One, dragging her foot as if she was ready to do something.

  “Why are you following me?”

  “Just making sure after you’ve gone through, I’ll stall them for you.”

  “I’m not through yet though. Must you follow me?”

  “Indeed I must, O’ Grand Chaos.”

  He reached the Vortex now. Arlene was just right behind him. Xylia right behind was watching with anticipation. Naciv with Rinea were just too exhausted for anything, just wanted to get out.

  Wattyson took his first step—the first for the whole group to leave this dungeon. A step turned into a leap and stumble after Arlene shifted her foot and took off, bashing him into the Vortex.

  What stood was a man before the Vortex, was now completely nothing. His entire existence phased out into many small horizontal lines of white before even that dematerialized.

  Xylia sprouted her arms out. “Ahh! Tradition is maintained. First to enter deserves the right to leave first. Such right only belong to the Great Sage! He has transcended the mortal coil of this dungeon and return to the real world!”

  Arlene giggled at Xylia’s sudden theatrical plays. “Alright, you had your fun, Xylia. Or perhaps you too want me to shove you in too?”

  The small mage gasped. “Really?! You would bestow me—the apex mages of all generation—the honor of being playful with the Chosen One?! Are you going to do for the errand boy and stupid girl too?!”

  Naciv still dejected said with his usual lethargic flair. “I’m not an errand boy.” Rinea’s brows raised as she spoke in a musing tone. “Stupid girl?”

  Arlene shook her head. “Only for you, Greatest Mage of All Timelines.” She beckoned her hand, a small invitation for her to come—to stand before her.

  Xylia gripped on her bundle of staffs harder then put it into her deep robe’s pocket. “Very well! I—the Amazing Mage of Celes’ira—shall take upon thy challenge and endure the powerful push from the Chosen One!!”

  The Chosen One shook her head, couldn’t believe herself at how many titles this young mage had. She watched the small mage strode with her legs held high before stomping back down.

  “READY!” The young mage roared out with excitement. Her eyes closed.

  “Count to three. One… Two… Three!” Arlene pushed both her hands forward before halting, tapping Xylia’s back lightly.

  “Moh!!!” The mage groaned out. “You’re teasing me! I demand a REDO!”

  “Okay.” Arlene complied, letting out a playful whistle. “On a count of three. THREE!”

  She shoved with enough push, sending Xylia straight in. Xylia screamed the first letter of the alphabet before hollowed out into nothing as the Vortex consumed her—disappearing her into white lines then dematerializing.

  Arlene looked back to the two. “You guys want in?”

  Both shook their heads. “No thanks. We’re good.”

  Arlene nodded but her mischievous grin still played. She walked before immediately switched to skipping to the Vortex, letting it absorb her too.

  Naciv gulped. “Did you see how Xylia went flying like a speeding crossbolt? I felt it would rip my heart out if she did it to me.”

  Rinea rested her chin, pressing heavily into Naciv’s shoulder. “Quite right. For once, we agreed with each other.”

  Without further ado, Naciv, carrying Rinea, walked straight into the Vortex.

  Arlene’s sight blurred into white nothingness then immediately after block upon block of scenery started forming before her eyes. Flat blocks turned into cubes and cubes into angular shapes. On the surface of those geometries were picture of various things—rocks, wooden beams, light, droplet of waters, and the marble like entrance of the Dungeon itself. Once the environment formed, more shapes took a humanoid form. One was tall and leaning against the wall, the other was short and spinning.

  After a while, her breath hitched before immediately calming down to as natural as living. It was Wattyson, back to his white robe trimmed with gold. His black shirt beneath hid all the bandages. Did he wear all those things over the purple buttoned shirt and the bandages? It must’ve felt stuffy with all those clothes on him. His face didn’t show any sign of it though.

  Xylia was few meters in front, spinning with her arms wide out. Whether it was a miracle or because of her big wizard hat balancing her, she hadn’t trip or fell from dizziness yet.

  She took a few steps forward. She didn’t feel it though. She didn’t feel her weight at all. Even though she had worn the same armor since the start of her Dark Lord quest till now, it still had some weight to it. She felt light, listless and more fluid. Like a release of all the heavy burden before heading into the dungeon.

  Of course, it didn’t take long for the mind to register—there was supposed to be weight. The shoulder pads, bracers, greaves, her sheathed longsword and more pressed against her body at once. It didn’t hamper her much, but it was a phenomenon she still wasn’t used to—despite having cleared more dungeons than everyone in the group.

  Naciv and Rinea soon emerged from the shining rectangle of light. The errand boy nearly tripped and fell over when the weight of Rinea settled back in. Much to his dismay, Rinea was giggling loudly in his ears—a mocking yet endearing sound.

  Wattyson stopped leaning and stood straight. He looked to Arlene, then to Naciv. “Right, now that everyone’s here I would like to go over the story again.”

  “WAIT!” Xylia shouted after being stopped by Arlene. She raised her arm up like a student. “How did you change into your robe again so quick?!” Her eyes were beaming. Perhaps she hoped that Wattyson would finally reveal how since after all, he didn’t explain how he changed into that purple shirt during the dive.

  “You must tell me! I want to learn the same!” Xylia pressed on. Wanting to hear her ‘Great Sage’ to reveal the secret. After all they went through, maybe he would be willing to share.

  Wattyson raised his chin up, looking to the dripping ceiling, to the complete white marble of the dungeon entrance and its pillars.

  “It is simple. I am the Great Sage. It is one of my many abilities.”

  “What?! You’re dodging the question.” She pouted, crossing her arms. “Then do you think I will be able to learn it?”

  “You will. In times as long as your pursuit your own style of magic. Stand proud that you have learned more than the School of Magic’s mages ever could.”

  Xylia raised both her hands, clenching in a fist just below her chin. Her mouth shaped into an ‘o’. Her eyes were violet starry staring into the supposed Great Sage. “Yes! I will!”

  Arlene pressed her own hand running down her face, shaking her own head. “Jeez…” She muttered to herself.

  Wattyson glanced back down, more importantly to Naciv. “Back to the topic at hand.” His eyes and tone were sharped. The serious undertone in his voice hinted to everyone they needed to listen carefully.

  “The monster that had terrorized the dungeon is, to borrow you adventurer’s term, ‘Challenger’. However due to the excess mana from the defeat of the Dark Lord and the destruction of the Dark Citadel, there is a disease like parasite that infect creatures and turn them into abnormality.”

  He pointed his finger down as if to underline what he was about to say next.

  “Like I had told you prior, the Challenger that invaded the dungeon is a random high rank monster. You can sprinkle in the disease known as the ‘Moonless’. You can describe your monster with appearance accurate to what you had seen, and what to do if encounter once. That’s all.”

  His eyes went to Arlene. “If they asked how did you defeat it? Answer the Chosen One and Her Companion aided in its defeat, and you learned about such disease from Her Companion. I cannot emphasize this enough, I need you to stress in your report to them that this information must not get out. Tell the higher up to not announce it. Hid it deep in whatever archive you have.”

  He paused, shutting his eyes. “I worked with the Great Sage Vilvane and his inner circle, even after his passing. I believe you are familiar with the name because he was Arlene’s mentor.” Arlene nodded slowly and Wattyson continued. “That what you will answer if they ask who Her Companion is. Her Companion and the people working with him are researching and trying to get all the data correct. We don’t want to spread misinformation that could lead to a mass hysteria.”

  The three nodded slowly. Xylia stared in awe while the other two mumbled under their own breathes—to take in what he was saying with their own voice.

  “Is that clear? Am I understood?”

  The two adventurers nodded while Naciv stammered. “Yes, An—Sir!”

  “Great. Let’s leave this damn stuffy mining shaft and back to open ground.” He didn’t wait. He turned around to leave immediately.

  The rest followed with Arlene catching up and walking by his side. “Did you think of the whole thing while we were leaving the dungeon?” She whispered out only for him to hear.

  “Yeah… it’s important to sound confident after all. Help sells the story.”

  “Hmm… you must’ve done this a lot of times.”

  “I have. Not that I enjoy it every time.”

  Arlene glanced to him, wanting to comfort him or ease him a bit. Then notice he was breathing in and out with every words. Her desire to lessen his burden turned into her wish to tease.

  “I knew it… you are wearing all the clothes on you right now.” She was giggling softly only to him.

  Wattyson clicked his tongue. “Of course I am. You tied those bandages too tight. I couldn’t get it out and I don’t know how long you’ll be stalling for. I’m dying to go out and change properly.”